I valued the works; Peter's sister had produced them and given them to us (well, actually, this one to Peter and the quadtych to Rachel ... but that constituted "us" in my mind). The colors factored into home decorating schemes, so that the paintings could be on display, and I pointed them out to visitors as works by Rachel's aunt -- just as I occasionally reminded Rachel that I truly admired Patty's efforts to make it as an artist and writer in New York City.
Yesterday, when I spotted this painting in the background of a photo, I reacted viscerally as I relived an oddly enjoyable experience. In 2004, when I was packing up our San Carlos house before moving to Hawaii, I tried to give the paintings to Rachel. She had no interest. As a collector, I couldn't fathom it, especially since they were gifts from the artist, who also happened to be Rachel's only biological aunt. I asked if she wanted us to save them for her. She had no interest. Peter had already made clear that he didn't want them moved to Hawaii; he'd never cared for them, and any need for pretense on his part no longer existed.
A year and a half earlier, by late 2002, our family relations had been strained by Patty's insidious and overt attempts to alienate Rachel from her parents, particularly me. And just a year earlier, on the 24th of July in 2003, our family was nearly shattered by the escalation of her alienation efforts. I thought about her direct words, her insinuations, and her actual plots with respect to Rachel.
While contemplating, I removed each painting from its frame. Each work used thick paper that was imbued with layers of chalk, ink, paint, perhaps other media -- adding surprising weight to each piece. I considered each for a bit as the pastels rubbed off onto my hands, and wondered at the evil twin who continues to struggle to create art. I spoke aloud, as when I "clear" a space, deleting Patty from our family and banishing her destructive energies. Then, one at a time, I methodically tore each of the five works into 2 inch wide strips and added them to the trash.
After washing my hands, I returned to the room with burning sage to smudge (clear) Patty's negative energies.
Normally, the idea of desecrating or destroying somebody's work of art would be horrifying and unthinkable to me.
However, in this case, it was and is a most gratifying expression of how I feel about Peter's sister. It is even more satisfying to discover a reminder of a forgotten moment serendipitously, to recall that solemn and tactile experience, and to write about it publicly!
